


Precedent

by hollybennett123



Series: Emergent [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Asgard, Developing Relationship, Dirty Talk, Fingering, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Thor (2011), Sexual Experimentation, Sibling Incest, Tenderness, Utter Filth, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 20:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14626389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123
Summary: Thor takes Loki’s hand in his own, drawing it to his mouth to place a gentle kiss upon his wrist.“If you’re planning on being overly sentimental tonight just because you finally get to fuck me, I’d ask that you please don’t,” Loki says, lifting his chin and looking decidedly unimpressed.Smiling, Thor presses Loki down into the soft blankets adorning the bed, leaning in close until their noses brush together. “Why must you ruin all my fun?”





	Precedent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mang_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mang_o/gifts).



> So I finally wrote the often-requested sequel to [Incipient](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13735926), a fic that was far more popular than I ever expected it to be so thank you! This can probably be read and enjoyed without having read that first -- all you really need to know is that they’re the Asgardian equivalent of late teens here and have discussed how they might try anal sex for the first time -- but I’d recommend you do read it as it gives a bit more context and features some fun dirty talk to lead into this one.
> 
> For some reason I had no real inspiration to write this for quite some time, then a few days before IW was released I started idly thinking about possibilities for this fic. Somehow it then overwhelmed my every thought and I’ve spent many a night staying up past my bedtime desperately trying to wrangle my thoughts and jumbled notes into coherent sentences over the past few weeks. I can only hope that it lives up to expectations in terms of hotness and tender moments :’)
> 
> Gifted to [Mang_o](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mang_o), who has read my fics throughout numerous fandoms, has left me countless wonderful comments, and credits me with singlehandedly turning them into a Thorki reader lmao. Thank you for being you! ♥

Nervousness is not a condition to which Thor has ever truly become accustomed, so rare is it that he feels in any way less than confident. In the midst of battle -- and he has encountered few so far but encountered them nonetheless -- the adrenaline takes over, fury and focus and the promise of victory all singing in his veins and leaving little room for fear. Outside of that, he takes his days as they come and sees little point in worrying too much over things which may or may not come to pass.

Standing before Loki’s bedchambers, however, he finds his stomach aflutter with apprehension; has to take in one deep, slow lungful of air and then another to steel himself, berating himself internally for being so ridiculous. It is only _Loki_ , and he is here at his brother’s invitation besides. He raps his knuckles against the door four times in quick succession, twice firm and twice gentle so that Loki will know it is Thor and that he is alone.

Somehow, for all that he drags the door open a mere two seconds after Thor’s hand first touches it, Loki still manages to affect an air of utterly casual indifference at Thor’s presence as he steps aside to allow him in. He looks stunning in a way that is expected but nevertheless breathtaking, his hair pinned up into a loose bun and his pale skin pink-flushed from bathing.

The robe he wears is one Thor hasn’t had the pleasure of seeing him in before now: emerald, hemmed in fine gold thread and made of silk so delicate that Thor worries he will ruin it no sooner than he puts his hands on him, something he intends to do imminently. He decides a moment later that he doesn’t care, and will search all the nine realms to find Loki another if it comes to it.

“Brother,” Thor groans softly, taking Loki’s face between both hands and backing him firmly up against the wall the moment the door clicks shut. “I have wanted so badly to do this all day.”

He claims Loki’s mouth with purpose, brushing his tongue against the seam of Loki’s lips and feeling abruptly weak at the knees when Loki opens up readily to allow him in. Stroking his thumb along the hollow between neck and jaw, Thor cannot help but moan at the sudden surge of arousal he feels when he brushes over the place where Loki’s pulse throbs with excitement, already racing with anticipation.

Loki makes a warm, pleased sound, going pliant and lax between the press of Thor’s body and the wall, hitching one leg up around Thor’s hip.

“Really?” Loki murmurs between kisses, looking terribly pleased with himself. “I cannot imagine why you are in such a lather about it. Did you not appreciate my invitation this morning?”

Dazed, still lost in the feel of Loki’s mouth against his own, Thor thinks on the way Loki had driven him to distraction from the first moment he’d caught sight of him, close enough to cast lingering looks in Thor’s direction and yet never quite near enough to touch. How Loki had, at long last, placed one hand dangerously high upon Thor’s thigh under the cover of their breakfast table and then leaned in close to ask very, very quietly if Thor might like to come to his bedchambers tonight. Added, in brief but surprisingly lurid detail, exactly what he might have opportunity to do once he got there.

“I appreciated the invitation well enough,” Thor mutters, nipping at Loki’s bottom lip before pulling away to look at him. He moves his hands to Loki’s waist, the fine material of his robe bunching in his palms. “The timing left a lot to be desired. Where did you _go_?”

Loki had made himself scarce immediately after, of course, smiling wickedly and sauntering away as Thor all but choked on his mouthful of breakfast, cheeks burning. Thor hadn’t seen him since.

“I was around,” Loki says cryptically, which means in all likelihood that he spent the day lurking just out of sight, thoroughly entertained at the sight of Thor tripping distractedly over his own feet during weapons training and flushing red in the face when asked by well-meaning individuals for the fourth, seventh, tenth time in a matter of hours whether he was feeling _quite_ well because he looked _very much_ out of sorts.

“And now this,” says Thor, tugging lightly at Loki’s sleeve. “Do you know what it does to me to see you wearing so little?”

Unmoved by Thor’s plight, Loki gives an indolent little shrug and raises one eyebrow. “Given why you are here, perhaps you are wearing rather too much.”

Breaking into a grin, Thor presses lavish kisses to Loki’s jaw and to the corner of his reddened mouth. Unable to resist, he gathers Loki up and hoists him further up the wall to fit both legs around his waist. His hands skim smoothly up Loki’s thighs as he does so, silk rucking against his knuckles.

“Apparently I’m not actually allowed to walk the castle corridors unclothed. It’s considered impolite.”

Loki tightens his thighs experimentally against Thor’s hips, his expression heated. “Mm. A shame, truly,” he says, his eyes positively glittering with amusement.

Thor cannot remember the last time he saw Loki brimming with such giddy excitement that he cannot keep it concealed, his happiness contagious; tonight he is radiant, overflowing with it.

“You’re certainly in a good mood,” Thor muses, hoping that he doesn’t dampen it in saying so.

“I suppose so. Should I not be?”

Thor merely looks at him, fond; fits himself close and kisses him deeply, revelling in the soft sigh of pleasure Loki makes when Thor brings their bodies closer together still.

“One day I will have you like this, right here against this wall,” Thor murmurs, an echo of a fantasy Loki told him once before.

Loki wets his lips, a brief dart of tongue that commands Thor’s attention entirely. “Maybe a tad ambitious for the first time,” he smirks.

“If you say so,” Thor agrees mildly.

Regardless, he grinds up on him slow and dirty so that Loki can feel the swell of Thor’s cock beneath his breeches rubbing against the crease of his thigh. Does it again, harder this time, jostling Loki up against the wall just to show him how easily he could take him like this.

“You are showing off,” Loki breathes, tapping one finger against Thor’s cheek, somehow instilling his words with both accusation and praise.

“Am I?” Thor grins, though he carefully lowers Loki down then onto unsteady legs.

He loves that they are almost of a height, barely an inch between them and thus so perfectly made to fit against one another. He presses their lips together once again, open-mouthed and needy as Loki entwines his fingers in Thor’s hair. When they finally part, Loki’s eyes are so dark that there is little green left in them, but he remains silent and holds Thor’s gaze.

It feels, Thor thinks, like a turning point. Taking a breath, he rests his palms upon Loki’s shoulders, taking a step back to put distance between them so he may be serious and level-headed for a moment.

“Are you certain that this is what you want? And that you want it tonight?”

 _Please_ , Thor thinks. _Please need this like I need it_.

Frowning, Loki looks at him in exasperation. “Yes, I want it, Thor, don’t be dull. Please do keep any equally stupid questions to yourself.” He places his hands over Thor’s as if to push them away but pauses then, looking at Thor hesitantly. “Wait,” he adds, “are _you_ certain you want this?” For apparently it is only a stupid question should Thor deign to ask it.

“More than I can ever recall wanting anything,” Thor says honestly, so absurdly happy he thinks he might burst.

“Then come,” Loki says gently, visibly relieved as he takes Thor by the wrist and tugs him toward the bed. “Make yourself useful and take my hair down for me.”

Thor kicks his boots off alongside the bed and then climbs up, settling with his back to the headboard and Loki positioned similarly between his thighs. The room smells of the candles Loki burns and the mysterious concoction of oils he’s bathed in, and for a moment Thor takes the time to simply breathe it in.

Carefully, Thor sets about removing the pins from Loki’s hair, holding each one between his lips so he can continue working with both hands. They have done this so many times and over so many years that Thor cannot remember the first time; it is an easy, repetitive task he has always found calming. It is also wholly unnecessary, given that Loki is perfectly capable of sorting his hair for himself, but apparently he prefers to use Thor for this particular task and Thor has never minded.

“Done?” Loki asks as Thor removes the final pin.

Thor hums in confirmation and plucks the pins from his mouth, placing them in the palm Loki holds out for him. Loki reaches to his bedside table and drops them into a bowl with a metallic clatter, returning to his seat in front of Thor as soon as he has done so.

On gently unwinding the twist of Loki’s bun, Thor teases his fingers through the length of Loki’s hair until it falls loose down his back. He tugs Loki flush to him then, pressed against Loki’s spine so he can feel the unmistakable evidence of Thor’s wanting.

Loki makes a small sound of satisfaction, shifting slightly so that the hard line of Thor’s cock -- straining in his breeches now and dampening the cloth when it pulls taut over the head -- rubs up against him, turning Thor’s breathing ragged.

“Loki,” Thor says softly. Whether it is meant to be encouraging or reproving he isn’t certain, but Loki ceases his fidgeting with a quiet snort of amusement.

Sliding Loki’s robe over the smooth curve of one shoulder to expose it, Thor brushes Loki’s hair to one side with his fingers. He sets his mouth to Loki’s neck, biting down gently and then sucking over the indents in Loki’s skin to leave his mark. Loki is panting desperately now, shuddering against Thor with his head tipped back against his shoulder; where he’d started out sitting upright he now leans fully onto Thor, sliding incrementally down the bed as though unable to support his own weight under the sheer onslaught of pleasure.

“Tell me,” Thor says against Loki’s ear, emboldened by his reaction, “how hard are you right now?”

“Very,” Loki gasps. His fingers grasp at the blankets, clenching and unclenching as Thor mouths over a particularly sensitive patch of skin. The slide of silk over his bare cock must surely be agonising every time his hips twitch. “Oh -- _oh_ , gods, yes, I’m so _fucking_ hard, just -- ”

He cuts himself off halfway through, impatient and clearly in no mood for delaying matters further, turning in Thor’s arms to kneel before him. Hastily unfastening his sash, Loki strips himself of his robe and tosses it carelessly to the floor.

Heart pounding, unable to stop staring at him, Thor reaches to tug his own tunic off over his head.

“Wait,” Loki says, still panting and in disarray, holding a hand up. “I want to try something.”

He places a hand on Thor’s chest, the press of his fingers followed by a flicker of green light and the oddest sensation as Thor’s clothes disappear all at once. He has seen Loki do it for himself enough times, yet he has never tried it on Thor before now; based on Loki’s expression, he appears pleasantly surprised by his own success.

“That is a fine trick indeed,” Thor says somewhat dazedly.

“It is, rather,” Loki says, stroking one hand appreciatively over Thor’s chest and gazing hungrily down at Thor’s cock.

Thor takes Loki’s hand in his own, drawing it to his mouth to place a gentle kiss upon his wrist.

“If you’re planning on being overly sentimental tonight just because you finally get to fuck me, I’d ask that you please don’t,” Loki says, lifting his chin and looking decidedly unimpressed.

Smiling, Thor presses Loki down into the soft blankets adorning the bed, leaning in close until their noses brush together. “Why must you ruin all my fun?”

Loki only smirks, beautiful and maddening, and so Thor traces featherlight patterns over his ribcage with his fingers until Loki squirms underneath him and falls breathless with laughter he can’t quite keep hidden.

“ _Stop_ it,” Loki gasps as he slaps Thor’s hands away. “You _beast_.”

“You would call your own brother a beast when he has shown you nothing but kindness?” Thor teases, settling his weight on his hands above him. “When he intends on fucking you however you please, to offer you pleasure beyond any you’ve ever known?”

There is a heartbeat of silence, and then: “You would call me your brother even in this?” Loki asks quietly, the look in his eye defiant and intense. It sounds like a question he’s been waiting some time to ask.

Thor frowns at him, taken aback; he has called him brother throughout everything else they have done together and has no intention of stopping now. Nothing will change who they are, and nor would he want it to.

“Of course,” Thor assures him, lowering himself onto his elbows and brushing his lips over Loki’s for a moment. “Always.”

Cupping Thor’s face in one hand Loki kisses him again, slow and lascivious like a reward. Thor fits their bodies together carefully, both sighing in pleasured relief as their cocks slide alongside one another between the heated press of their bodies.

“Put your fingers in me,” Loki murmurs against Thor’s mouth, voice thick in his throat. “Brother, I want you to.”

Thor swallows hard. When he pulls away and sits back on his heels Loki follows, pushing himself up on his hands.

“Perhaps you should do it.” Thor tells him.

“You’ve done it before.”

“ _Once_ ,” Thor exclaims. “Three days ago. I am hardly well-versed. Though -- I did try it myself last night to learn how it feels.” Loki raises a curious eyebrow, silently urging him to elaborate. “It was good?” Thor adds. “I will try it again.”

“Mm,” Loki says approvingly, reaching under his pillow for a jar of oil he’d apparently stashed there in preparation. “Do let me know sometime if you require any assistance.”

At Loki’s gentle prodding Thor moves from where he is kneeling, instead sitting down properly so that Loki can climb comfortably into his lap. Taking Thor’s hand, Loki soaks his fingers in oil until they are thoroughly coated. He cleans the slick from his own hand by drawing it up over Thor’s cock: three slow, firm pulls along the shaft, his palm gliding easily over Thor’s heated flesh as Thor gives a helpless groan.

Rising up onto his knees, Loki’s fingers form a delicate necklace around Thor’s throat, his touch light and yet wholly anchoring. He is so beautiful that looking at him feels like cruelty, his lips parted and kiss-glossed and the tips of his eyelashes gilded by candlelight. Thor knows that he must surely be looking up at him with wholehearted devotion but finds that he cannot help it: he has never felt so possessed by his brother than in this moment, as if Loki holds the whole of him in the palm of his hand.

With a tremulous exhale, Thor strokes his slicked fingers teasingly down Loki’s crease, watching his expression carefully as he slowly coaxes one fingertip inside him.

“I took two of my own whilst bathing earlier,” Loki says breathily as Thor presses deeper. “You can give me another, you needn’t hold back.”

Thor does what is asked of him, barely breathing as Loki shifts his hips down to take his two fingers in to the knuckle. He keeps his hand in place as Loki begins to ride his fingers slowly, tight little undulations of his hips that leave Thor lightheaded at the feel of him opening up so beautifully. He doesn’t want to throw Loki’s rhythm and so he tries his best to keep still, but cannot resist crooking his fingers to search for the sweet spot Loki showed him mere days ago; knows exactly when he has found it when Loki quivers around his fingers with a soft, pleasured sound.

“I know I cannot take you fully yet,” Loki croons, a sharp and dangerous tilt to his smile, “but -- I just want to feel you.” Thor gives him a questioning look, biting back a groan when he feels Loki’s lips and a hint of teeth against the shell of his ear. Loki strokes his fingertips along the length of Thor’s cock until it bobs against his belly, dragging the pad of his thumb over the head where it’s sticky with pre-spend. “Just a little bit,” Loki pleads, barely more than a whisper and on the cusp of whining, calculated to coax Thor into giving him what he wants. “Just the tip.”

Thor lets out a shuddering breath, wanting it so very badly. He isn’t entirely convinced he can survive the extent of Loki’s teasing, however, when he already feels as though he might be fraying around the edges.

“Why do you delight in torturing me so?” Thor laughs softly, his spare hand gripping at Loki’s hip whilst the other still works inside him.

“Because you love it, brother,” Loki says simply, perceptive as always. “And because the wanting suits you so well.”

Taking Thor’s cock in a loose grip, Loki positions himself over it, his eyes hazy with longing. His slick little hole feels soft, yielding slightly when Thor nudges his cock up against it in place of his fingers. Thor bites down on the edge of his tongue until pain sparks in his mouth in a desperate attempt to keep himself grounded.

Loki’s eyelashes flutter as he bears down against him, giving a shocky little moan as the tip of Thor’s cock slips just barely inside. Thumbing around the flared head, Loki works himself open, too tight still to take more than the first half inch but apparently content enough in teasing the both of them like this. Nevertheless, the very thought of Loki sinking down and taking him in fully is enough to make Thor’s cock jump excitedly, another sleek pulse of precome welling from the slit and wetting Loki from the inside.

It is too much, the adrenaline and the tension and the banked desire from holding back, and Thor trembles and trembles with no way of stopping.

“You are shaking, brother,” Loki says, curious and soft as he holds Thor’s gaze. He traces one finger neatly around the place where Thor’s cock spears him open, the skin stretched smooth and slick, and gives a tiny, hitching gasp.

“Yes,” Thor says, and his voice shakes too.

“Because of me?”

“Because of you.”

Loki looks pleased, tipping forward slightly to capture Thor’s mouth in a breathy, intoxicating kiss.

“Let me finish myself off,” he says indulgently, letting Thor’s cock slip free. “It’ll be quicker that way.”

He slicks his own fingers with oil and reaches behind himself, his face going slack with pleasure all over again as he breaches his body. Thor holds him by the waist with trembling hands; kisses his throat and murmurs encouragement all the while.

After one minute or several -- Thor has entirely lost track of anything so trivial as the passage of time -- Loki slides his fingers free with an obscenely wet sound, wiping gleaming streaks of oil across his thigh. His gaze is intense and unwavering as he moves smoothly from Thor’s lap to instead arrange himself on his back, sliding his thighs slowly apart and drawing Thor down to lie between them with nothing more than a molten look.

“Don’t look so worried,” Loki says softly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not worried,” Thor tells him, feeling as stunned as Loki looks, and it is only a bit of a lie because it is far less important than anything else he feels right now. “Just -- tell me what to do and I will do it.”

Loki cocks his head upon the pillow, a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

“You cannot work this part out for yourself?” he asks, his tone light and teasing. “I assumed you were at least aware of the basics of sex. You _have_ heard of it?”

“You really are tremendously annoying,” Thor tells him, unable to stop smiling, and presses a soft and lingering kiss to his mouth.

Letting out a slow breath, Thor takes himself in hand to guide himself in place, gently bumping the head of his cock against Loki and looking to him for confirmation. Loki nods, seemingly rendered speechless for the moment, pressing one cupped palm to Thor’s cheek as his cock slips inside in increments.

“Gods,” Loki breathes at last. Thor, buried only halfway inside, pauses to let him adjust. “You’re so big, why are you so fucking _big_? It’s so unnecessary.”

Amused, Thor chooses to keep the question rhetorical, for not only did Loki know what he was getting himself into -- or, rather, what was getting into him -- but there is nothing he can do about it even if Loki does want to insinuate that Thor chose to be this way just to be difficult. With his hands or his mouth upon Thor’s cock, Loki’s opinion on Thor’s size is vastly improved, and he hopes that Loki will come to appreciate this in turn.

Drawing one hand over his own cock with shivery delight, Loki eventually relaxes under him with a soft exhale. Thor waits until Loki encourages him to press forth once again; slides deeper inside a little bit and then a lot all at once as his hand skids upon the sheets. Loki winces and Thor feels like the worst person and worst brother imaginable.

“I’m sorry,” Thor says, panicked in his clumsiness, “Loki, I’m sorry, I -- ”

“Do not _coddle_ me, Thor,” Loki interrupts sharply. “I’m fine. Just -- slower, this time. Take care.”

Holding himself up on one hand, Thor presses tender knuckles to Loki’s warm cheek. “I am trying.”

“You are,” Loki agrees, gentler now. A narrow braid in Thor’s hair hangs between them and Loki tugs at it lightly, running it between forefinger and thumb. “You are being very, very good.”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Thor says with a shaking laugh, his face hot and his cock throbbing keenly. “Loki, you know what that does to me.”

“I do,” Loki says smugly. “But you _are_ being good for me and so I shall tell you anyway.”

Near-dizzy with need, Thor is overwhelmed at how good it feels: his cock well-slicked and heat-soaked, pressed almost fully inside a body so exquisite it must surely have been made to fit him. Some small part of him, oft-ignored, had idly wondered once or twice if this might be the part where he finally feels ashamed in one way or another, a step too far in a long line of actions neither of them consider to be misdeeds, but Loki looks pleasure-flushed and happy and unutterably perfect in every way and Thor cannot imagine how any of this could be wrong.

He gives an experimental little thrust, Loki’s body tight and clinging as he withdraws slightly before pushing in again. Loki appears more comfortable now, each ensuing thrust easier than the last; Thor ensures he fits himself close enough that Loki can rub off against him, his cock sliding tantalisingly against Thor’s abs.

“Yes,” Loki utters, rocking his hips fractionally to chase the feeling. “Oh, yes, Thor.”

With every pulsing motion of Thor’s hips Loki gives a quiet gasp that goes straight to Thor’s cock: soft, hitching little breaths that make Thor want to fuck him absolutely stupid.

“If you don’t stop that, this might be over far quicker than you’d like,” Thor admits quietly with a choked burst of laughter.

He closes his eyes and touches their foreheads together for a moment, kissing Loki gently before tucking his face to his neck. Oh, but it is _worse_ , for Loki is merely panting against his ear now, warm gusts of breath and careless sounds.

“I cannot -- ” Loki begins, clearly amused and making no effort to quieten himself, “-- _ah_ , I cannot help it.”

His fingers dance over Thor’s back, never remaining in one place for long. He moans louder still as Thor pulls back and drives gently forth once again.

“Well then,” Thor says, punctuating his words with another thrust and lifting his head to look him in the eye, “it is hardly my _fault_ if I spill before _you_ do.”

“Do it,” Loki says as he grasps at Thor’s sides with greedy hands, spreading his legs wider and leaving Thor feeling as though he has been hit bluntly over the head with pure, mindless _want_. “I don’t care, you can surely fuck me again, just come in me, I _need_ it.”

“Gods, Loki,” Thor growls, clinging to restraint by his fingertips.

He quickens the movement of his hips, still mindful not to be overly rough, and knows that he will hardly last much longer at all now that he is no longer obliged to endurance. His body thrums with an arousal so intense that he can hardly bear it.

Holding him close, Loki draws slender legs around Thor’s back in encouragement.

“I have wanted this,” says Loki, suddenly dreamlike and faraway-sounding, “since I first learned that it existed, and that you might be the one to give it to me.”

Thor comes with a desperate sound that is almost a sob, the noise catching in his throat. He grasps mindlessly at Loki’s hip with one hand; holds him in place as his cock flexes hard inside the perfect embrace of his brother, filling him up.

“Oh, _Thor_ ,” Loki says, almost disbelieving, gentling him with wandering hands throughout.

Thor is silent for a stretch afterward, looking down at Loki in awe. His head feels static-filled, too stunned to speak.

“You wonder,” he says at last, breathless with joy. He slides one hand down the length of Loki’s body, his thumb dipping teasingly into his navel before sliding smoothly over his cock. “You perfect thing.”

Loki all but preens under Thor at the attention, seemingly forgetting to admonish him for uttering such sentimental nonsense.

When Thor rocks his hips forth gently he feels hot and overwhelmed at the thought that he is fucking into his own spending, inside Loki, who wanted this as much as he did. He is still hard, his body all too eager to claim his brother all over again.

Loki draws him down into a kiss, rolling his hips with a satisfied sigh.

“Pull out, just for a moment,” Loki instructs, encouraging Thor up and off him with a hand to Thor’s chest. It is a strange feeling indeed, separating again. “I want to try something else. Like this,” he says keenly, tugging Thor by the wrist.

Loki gets up on his knees and turns around, his hands gripping lightly at the ornate wooden headboard before him to balance himself. He has Thor fit himself up behind him, and Thor decides immediately that this is a very good choice indeed, not least because this position allows him -- near enough _requires_ him -- to wrap his arms around Loki in a way that his brother would never usually tolerate.

Stroking a soothing hand down Loki’s side, Thor fits back inside him with barely-contained enthusiasm, caressing Loki’s cock as he does so. His own cock glides into Loki smoothly, aided by the slick Thor put there himself when he spilled inside him. It is leaking out of Loki now, hot and obscene, wetting the hair at the base of Thor’s prick as each slow, rocking thrust draws more from him.

It is so easy to lose themselves to the mindless rhythm of it, drawing out the pleasure for as long as they can stand it. It is Loki who breaks first, pressing his fingers against Thor’s thigh and encouraging him down. He follows the motion as Thor lowers himself to sit back on his heels, sinking fully onto Thor’s lap and finally taking the entire length of Thor’s cock inside himself for the first time.

“Oh,” Loki says, startled. “Norns, there’s so much of it.”

Kneeling as he is, Thor has little range of movement now, but it appears to matter little to Loki who seeks his own pleasure with single-minded focus. He rides Thor’s cock like it is the only thing that matters, the surging motion of his hips pooling electric heat in Thor’s belly like a swift-gathering storm.

Thor nudges at Loki’s chin with his thumb, tilting his head back so he can capture Loki’s mouth in a kiss so messy and lust-driven that their lips slide apart more often than they touch, panting into one another’s open mouths uncaring.

“Have you any idea how you look?” Thor murmurs gruffly, drawing his gaze down the length of Loki’s body and making no effort to conceal his hunger. “How good you feel inside?”

Loki’s eyes are glassy with lust, unfocused when he looks at him. Still, he all but melts in Thor’s arms, his sigh of satisfaction enough to let Thor know that he heard every word.

Thor quickens the movement of his hand upon Loki’s cock, conscious that he cannot last much longer himself and wanting so very much to see Loki come undone.

“ _Yes_ ,” Loki hisses, writhing against Thor in response and driving himself down onto his cock wantonly. “Don’t you dare stop; oh, yes, _there_.”

It takes little further effort to bring him to the brink and then suddenly he is shaking apart, his legs spread wide across Thor’s lap and his head tipped back against Thor’s shoulder as he spills and pants and spills some more.

“Norns,” Thor grits out, his hand slick with Loki’s seed. “ _Fuck_ , Loki.”

Wrapping one arm tightly around Loki’s middle, Thor presses his forehead to the sweaty nape of Loki’s neck as his own orgasm takes him. This one feels even harder than the last, slamming into him and knocking the air from his lungs as he empties himself with a groan.

Slumping forward, Loki rests a palm upon the headboard, head bowed as he catches his breath. Thor nuzzles at his neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of him and revelling in the silky slide of Loki’s hair against his cheek. He could stay like this always, Loki on top of him and surrounding him, overwhelming every one of his senses.

When Loki finally moves to unseat himself from Thor’s lap, Thor clings to his hips for a moment before begrudgingly letting go; pulls out slowly as Loki dismounts, suddenly desperate to memorise the feel of him should Loki choose to never, ever bed him again like this or in any other way. He is shocked at the intensity of the anguish he feels at the thought of it.

It must show on his face when Loki turns around, for his brows knit together in confusion. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Thor says quietly, shaking his head, but decides that admitting to it is less painful than the uncertainty. “I just -- I worry that you might have regrets, brother. That you might not have me again.”

Loki’s expression softens. “Whatever in all the realms would make you think that?” he scoffs in disbelief, though his tone is ultimately gentle. “How foolish.”

Lying down upon the pillows, Loki pulls Thor down to him so he may rest his head upon Loki’s chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of his ribs is soothing and they lie like that for some time, breathing in tandem, skin cooling.

After some time has passed, Loki shifts underneath him, bringing Thor back to himself; before, he had been floating somewhere else entirely, drifting somewhere between sleep and waking. Twitching, Loki gives a slight shiver, seemingly at nothing.

Thor lifts his head and looks at him curiously. Loki is pink-cheeked, avoiding Thor’s gaze; drawing Thor’s hand down between his legs, he presses Thor’s fingers against his hole where Thor’s come once again leaks out of him in abundance.

“You have made quite the mess of me,” Loki protests, his belated embarrassment endearing.

“I do believe you asked for this,” Thor says, voice brimming with mirth.

Thor strokes his thumb over the rim of him and then pushes two fingers inside when Loki gives a soft grunt of assent, feeling where he’s fucked loose and sloppy from Thor’s cock.

“Must you toy with me, Thor? I’m not your plaything,” Loki says mildly, an arm thrown across his face.

It would be somewhat more convincing if he weren’t already shifting his hips down to take Thor deeper, letting out gorgeous, shivery little breaths as he does so. Come slides out over Thor’s hand in sleek rivulets as he plays with Loki’s hole, captivated at the sight of it.

“Mm. There are some washcloths in the bedside drawer,” Loki sighs eventually, over-sensitised and apparently having had his fill for now.

Thor withdraws from him carefully and finds the cloths so that they can at least clean up enough to be comfortable. A bath would be nice, but Thor has no intention of standing on his own two legs for at least another few hours if he can help it, curling back over Loki’s chest with a rumbling sound of contentment as soon as they are done.

“That was quite a successful endeavour, all in all,” Loki says at last, as though they are discussing a minor skirmish in enemy lands. His fingers slide gently through Thor’s hair, untangling any knots he finds. Lowering his voice, something sly creeping into his tone, he adds: “And here I was, concerned that you might start weeping on me afterward.”

“That I might -- _what_?” Thor splutters, pushing himself up on one arm to look at him. Sometimes it is near enough impossible to tell when Loki is being sincere. “You thought I might _cry_?”

Loki examines his fingernails with an exaggerated eye-roll and makes a fine attempt at appearing bored.

“Well, you do seem like the type, Thor.”

Thor bursts into incredulous laughter. “You -- _well_ , brother, I am sure you are relieved that I have not.”

Loki casts a glance over him and looks thoroughly unconvinced, though the corner of his mouth twitches with amusement. “Hm. Haven’t _yet_.”

“You are the most intolerable -- ” Thor begins, and attempts to hold Loki down, though Loki is fast enough to grasp at Thor’s arms in retaliation, digging his fingernails into the meat of Thor’s biceps.

Shoving Thor away and cackling as he does so, Loki nearly takes them both over the side of the bed as they grapple with one another. Loki is as vicious as he is determined but, in a battle based on pure strength alone, Thor always comes out on top: seizing Loki’s hands, he throws him down onto the bed on his back and sits astride his thighs to keep him there.

“You are truly my least favourite brother,” Thor declares, pinning Loki to the bed by his wrists. “I have decided that I will find myself another. A _better_ brother.”

Loki goes utterly submissive in Thor’s grip and looks up at him through half-lowered lashes, body lax with post-coital satisfaction and cheeks fairly flushed with exertion. Thor’s stomach gives an odd little flip at the sight of him.

“A better brother than I?” Loki says in faux surprise. “I cannot even imagine.”

Thor looks down upon him, overwhelmed with a sudden swell of affection. Smiling softly, he slides his hands from Loki’s wrists so he may lace their fingers together instead.

“No, brother,” Thor concedes. “Nor can I.”

**Author's Note:**

> *sitting amongst the burning wreckage of IW* This is fine :)
> 
> Please yell at me about this fic or any fic or Thorki in general in the comments or at my [Tumblr](http://hollybennett123.tumblr.com/)


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